insomnia

insomnia is a familiar annoyance for me.

pandemic insomnia is a whole 'nother struggle. 

nedra tawwab shared about the collective trauma we're experiencing. the coronacoaster. i wonder how you're doing? it feels bizarre and wonderful, mostly terrible, knowing we are all in this together.

even when i don't think it's on my mind, i know coronavirus makes everything feel exaggerated right now. we fight for life in the groundhog-day-ness of it all. and when will it end? how? 

financial burdens loom, homeschool planning, chronic illness, scorching alabama heat. rampant injustices in every sphere, white supremacy and anti-blackness on full display. unrest, grief and death are all around us. 

all realities to rightly feel.

i don't know how to do any of this. 

being a person, a parent, life partner, family member, friend, neighbor; it all feels dimensions away from my ability. 

i want to sleep. am i trying too hard? 

how do you press pause on a brain, muting thoughts and summon peace? 

i ask god for these miracles. 

i ask god to lull me from chaos to comfortable rest. 

waiting. 

waiting is exhausting but rarely enough to send me true respite and rest. i'm weary and desperate for sleep but i can't get there.

sometimes i'm content to lay still, which is close enough at times. stillness is a gift. why am i greedy for more?

my body and mind, they're set up to shut down after awhile. right, god? can you hear me tonight/this morning, god?

some night music is magic. reading can be too. when everything, even stillness, feels too much or if i can't feel anything at all i read comforting things. i'll get lost in my favorite asmr trigger videos, check on my favorite social media connections, snuggle with our cats. 

right now i am back to the stillness and i think this quick vent did the trick. my eyes are finally heavy and i feel relief in the birds' song outside my window. my ceiling fan has just the perfect rhythm and i hope to dance in a dream.